Monday, January 4, 2021

Monday, January 4, 2021

         I went to bed before 9, slept well, and still slept in till 6:30. I seem to be needing more sleep these days.

            I had a 9:30 appointment with my 7-year-old autistic student, H. I asked if he wanted to write a story. He announced today we would be working on a book. He started reading the book to me and then told me about all the pets he had. Goofy the dog, Kiki the cat, and a mouse that came into the house. He gave me their ages and birthdays. In the middle of the session, I received a text from his mother.: they had no pets; he was making it all up. I texted her back, "Are you distressed or pleased?" She replied, "Both." I had suspected the possibility that he was making it up because he offered three names for the cat before he settled on Kiki. I told the mother that it wouldn't have made any difference one way or the other. I'm following his lead and searching for ways to impact the interaction. 

            The mother and I talked after the session. I wanted to check on what she thought my function was. She said to engage him in conversation and help him learn to interact with others appropriately.  

            I told her that I never 'reprimand' him for his behavior. If he behaves in ways that don't suit me, I may throw a temper tantrum, I may stand up and wave my arms around and scream, "Not fair, not fair," but I won't tell him s behavior is 'bad" I won't yank him back like a misbehaving dog.

            I had a long discussion with the mother about the value of helping navigate awkward social situations differently. Instead of telling H he is behaving 'rudely,' focus on helping the disoriented adult by his behavior reorient. They are modeling behavior for H. He will have to learn to navigate the social world without his parents. He will never be 'normal'; he will have to learn some method for dealing with people who are disturbed by his behavior.

            After the session, I did some work on the updates. Then Judy called. She had a teleconference with a doctor from Oahu, a neurosurgeon. She has a growth on her spine. Her cancer doctor and this neurosurgeon say that it would be a big surprise if this was a cancerous growth. Good news! While it is growing in a very small space, it isn't large. However, it could become painful and damaging very quickly. They have no idea how long it has been there. It could be very slow-growing. While waiting is an option with risks, Judy has decided on immediate surgery. Since this is elective surgery, immediate means February. She will have to go to Oahu for the surgery. She says she's good going alone. Actually, as I think of it, if something goes wrong, we all could hop on a plane. Oh, as I think of it, we won't see her in the hospital anyway because of Covid. Her problem doesn't sound too bad. I will maintain a positive outlook.

            It led us to a discussion of surgery and my refusal to get a hip replacement. No, I am not opposed to surgery; getting this hip replacement just doesn't feel right. Judy told me, everyone she knows who has had a THR has been thrilled with the results. I know, I know. I may feel that way at some point and even regret not having it done sooner. It still doesn't feel right. I am limited. My tennis days would be over if I ever had been a tennis enthusiast in the first place. I can walk 10,000 steps a day every day. I have trouble bending, but some of the problems are with my back. I also believe when Mike wrenched my leg, he ripped a muscle. THR won't fix that.

            After my morning activities, I was exhausted. I find that I get tired easily.

 I had a two pm appointment with J. I set my alarm clock and lay down for a fifty-minute nap. J didn't sign in for the Zoom session. I was about to call him when he sent a text saying there was a family emergency; could we meet tomorrow? I texted back, no worries.

            I accidentally overheard a message from Kaiser the other day. It was on my house phone, which I never use. I would have gotten rid of it, but it would have to renegotiate my contract with Spectrum. People have said it might cost me more, even without the phone, than it costs now. Besides, I need the house phone to find my cell.

            I called eero's customer support. I have been troubled by unsteady Internet service. Since Sandor substituted an eero mesh for my old router, I have had Internet stability problems. I couldn't delete my old router because it was my access to my printer. Fed up with my Internet continually switching back to my old system, I unplugged my old router. Guess what! It didn't make any difference. Instead of switching from the eero router to my old router, it switched from the eero to Yvette and Josh's router. I had just as much instability. I had been waiting for Sandor to have time to come over and fix the situation. It finally dawned on me that I could take care of it myself. I could call eero customer support.

            I got Andrew Z. as my eero customer support person. He lives in Nevada and is all of twenty-three years old. I barely know what a twenty-three-year-old looks like. It's hard for me to believe they still exist. It's the same problem I have looking at the heads of 8-year-olds and marveling at the total absence of grey hair.  

            Andrew Z, with the middle initial N, told me exactly what I had to do. I had to call my Internet provider and ask them to make an electronic change- put the service into 'bridge mode.'

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Musings:

            I talked to H's mother about using a different approach to dealing with his social awkwardness. Instead of telling him his behavior is wrong, tell him you don't like his behavior – as an equal. This generated a lot of thoughts.

            Parents' correct' their children's behavior, getting them to change, so they conform to some social norm. If you have a child who is not normal and never will be, pushing them to conform is only one leg of the modifications needed.

            In our current society, the normal have to adapt to the needs of the handicapped. I argue it is the 'job' of the handicapped to orient the normal and provide an alternative script. When we are confronted by the unexpected, we experience disorientation. We don't know how to respond in that situation. We need help.

            I told H's mom that if the focus is on criticizing H to correct his behavior, everyone has a fear response, H and the adult. Mom told me that when he deals with children his own age, she explains that he has some problems and needs to be dealt with differently. She says the kids figure it out quickly and are great with him. Adults aren't as flexible as children. And adult judgments are much, much scarier. It isn't the children who determine the 'correct' social behavior;  it is those adults. 

            I told mom the results of my advice for another family with a five-year-old with a serious speech impediment. The child would speak to the adult expecting to be understood. The adults would become startled when they didn't understand a single word this adorable child had uttered. Once I did the necessary work on getting the parents to release the instinctual fear for their child's safety, they could change their behavior. In a situation where an adult responded with alarm upon hearing their son speak, the parent stepped in and said, "I'm his translator. If you need help, just let me know." The father reported that the whole family was more relaxed, and the little boy spoke more. Things were going better in his preschool classes. There is much to be said for releasing unnecessary fear.

            That fear is unnecessary because we live in a world where diversity is tolerated. But that is not the world we are designed for. We are designed for a world where we live in small wandering groups living close to survival. A deviation of any sort can threaten the group's survival one way or another. A deviant child would have to be killed. This is a species memory that stays with us, even in the face of a different reality. All we have to do is recognize the difference and tell our wonderful vigilant unconscious minds about the alternative reality. It is safe to be different here. Completely safe? I doubt that. But a child that is different does not have to fear being killed, nor does their parent. Are there limits to this? I can think of many examples, but they usually occur when the child is at least an adolescent or a young adult.